Unresolved Fears
by petite etoile22
Summary: Ros hadn't overcome her fear of dying yet.


**_Author's note: This is inspired by the Holby City ep that aired a fortnight ago. I don't own spooks, BBC/Kudos do. And a thank you to Odainath who alleviated some of my concerns over this fic._**

* * *

"You really don't want to do this."

"Don't I?"

Ros gazes levelly with the man who is currently holding a blade to her little sister's throat. "She doesn't know anything, but I do. So let's find a quiet place, a safe place for both of us where we can talk. But we can only do that if you let Sally go."

"How do I know she won't go running to your spooky friends?" He demands.

"She won't, because you'll have me."

"Ros-"

"Shut up!" Ros doesn't know if that venom-filled hiss directed at her sister, left his mouth or her own.

"Alright," he exhales. "Walk over to me. I'll let her go when I know you won't bolt."

Ros walks steadily, the damp concrete ringing with every heeled step. Sally notes that for the first time in over two decades, she has the full attention of her big sister. She struggles to hold back her tears when the roles are reversed, and the metal blade is pressed firmly against Ros's flesh.

"It's alright, Sally. Just go." She sighs when her sister finally squeezes through the small gap she was dragged through barely an hour ago.

"Well, I guess it's just me and you now. You want to know something funny? I already know what you know. In fact, I know more."

"Enlighten me."

"With pleasure."

Ros can't help but cry out at the sharp pain in the side of her chest. She crumples to the floor and lies there in an unnatural and uncharacteristic display of weakness. Her eyes glance down to see the crimson pool of blood rapidly blossom around her, staining her leather jacket. The one she bought after the Thames Incident.

Oh God.

"Oh God." She gurgles.

"I never had you down as a believer, Rosalind." He muses as he walks away. "Do you think you can forgive him for this too?"

"Oh God." She breathes shakily.

Ros Myers had never overcome her fear of dying alone.

* * *

"Oh God." Ros sighs as she shifts yet another pile of dossiers around on her desks. It's been nearly a month since her attack, and Harry won't even let her sit in a surveillance van. She's sure Lucas was off desk duty sooner than this. Her thoughts are interrupted by the sudden presence of inked forearms.

"Lucas." She murmurs as a greeting.

"Do you want-"

"I neither want nor need your help. I was stabbed in my chest, not my eyes."

"Ros, it's barely been four weeks. No one would hold it against you if you took it easy."

"I'm fine, Lucas!" She snaps, yanking her shirt up. "See? Barely a scar."

"Okay." He concedes. "I guess you won't mind going with Jo to check out this address."

"Her asset didn't check in?"

"No. She's waiting for you in the car."

All the doors and windows are locked, but Ros knows the telltale signs of a lock-picking kit when she sees one. She gets out her own, and picks the lock faster than she can ever remember doing. Jo pushes the door open just in time to see a flash of blonde sprint into the kitchen.

"Oi!"

Ros heads after her, instructing Jo to call for special branch upon seeing the male corpse slumped over the breakfast counter. Ros only notices the stitch in her side when she eventually catches up with the head of blonde, which turns out to be a girl of no more than 15. What strikes Ros most about this girl, is the fact that she is crying in front of a complete stranger. Ros can't remember the last time she was able to do that. Crying, or any kind of strong emotion wasn't tolerated in the Myers household.

"You need to come with me. I can get you somewhere safe."

The girl only nods, allowing Ros to lead her back to Jo's car.

"Did she say anything?" Jo asks, but Ros is just as talkative as the girl.

* * *

Ros insists that Jo speaks with the girl; there is something about the girl's presence that unnerves her. Jo doesn't even have a chance to object; the lift doors are already closing on Ros, sending her to the depths of Thames House's archives. As soon as the doors open, Ros is pulling boxes of the shelves. She wants to know how a man with a dependent was put at such risk. There is something about this whole thing that doesn't sit right with her. It's as if she's seen this somewhere before, but she can't quite remember where. The next file she reads causes her to rest her head against the cardboard box from which it came.

"Oh no." She sighs. "You stupid, stupid man."

It wasn't their fault.

It was his.

He'd been dealing with some highly unsavoury characters who didn't appreciate being double-crossed. He'd lied to that girl, and she could've been seriously harmed because of his idiocy. No, it was because of his ego. That's what it was always about; egos.

It is a grave misfortune when Jo returns to announce that girl refuses to talk to anyone but Ros. The older blonde enters the canteen, and takes a seat opposite the young girl.

"I though you might appreciate some tea."

"...I shouldn't have left."

"You did the right thing. There was nothing you could've done."

"That's what dad said. I shouldn't have left her, though."

_It'll be worse for you if you don't do as I say!_

"Sometimes, you don't have a choice. That doesn't make you a bad person."

"I think he knew something, he told me he knew something."

"Did he tell you the information that he knew?"

"No."

"Don't lie to me." Ros states, inflecting the slightest hint of frost into her voice.

"He asked me to forgive him."

"Why? What did he do?"

"I-I..." The girl stutters before collapsing, blood frothing up and out of her mouth.

"Shit! Somebody help!" She shouts before trying to find out where the source is and dialling an ambulance. She tears open her shirt, and finds in between the girl's third and fourth rib, a small puncture mark. Ros gathers the unconscious girl up into her arms, heading down the back staircase. She makes it four flights before slumping to the floor.

"I sh-shouldn't have l-left h-her." She whispers.

"Don't talk, okay? Just keep still." Ros orders.

"H-He was r-right, you know? It is w-worse f-for me...I-I just c-c-couldn't do it..."

"Don't talk."

"I c-couldn't let h-him do it...N-Not a-after the g-girls, not a-after the p-p-planes..."

"What?" Ros exclaims, her heart running cold.

"Walking away from your sister was one thing, but the nation...you couldn't do it."

"I-"

"And this time you sent her away. Too far away this time. Too far."

"I had to, she would've-"

"You're cold, Ros."

"I'm not-I'm not cold. Not anymore."

"You're so cold. And alone."

Ros gasps at the sharp pain in her side, and when she pulls her hand away, she sees the blood and remembers.

Oh God.

"Oh God."

Her father caused it all.

Because hurting her would hurt him.

And so she finds that she can forgive him. It's easy to forgive foolish men. And despite it all, he loved them, and what he did, he did for them.

She was never his favourite, not really.

She was his 'son'.

Until she couldn't be that anymore.

And then she was nothing.

The Myers family needed Sally more than they needed her.

Oh Go-

* * *

Ros never did overcome her fear of dying alone.

Harry and Lucas stand over her body, her hair splayed out on the concrete like a mock halo and her blood pooling just before their feet; the latter says nothing as Harry tries to hold back his silent tears. Her eyes are open; neither man can bring himself to close them forever.


End file.
